White Horse Pilgrim

Trail etiquette

A quote from The Riding Holiday Centre Manual came to mind after a discussion about organising a group ride turned to being told, in effect, that I should not expect riders to listen to instructions.

A certain frustration creeps from amongst my words in the book. After taking a thousand people on riding holidays I've seen most forms of misbehaviour. Everything from plain thoughtlessness to - incredibly - a selfish dumbass bitch woman who deliberately injured a driving horse. The longer I did that job, the more I loved my horses and the less fond I grew of humanity. Perhaps it was a good thing that I stopped working as a guide? At least I stopped before becoming some kind of hermit surrounded by animals. Which would have been easy.

The guests in the picture, incidentally, were exemplary. If you should see this - I'd ride with you again any day.

So here's the list - actually quite restrained given my experiences - from the book:

Etiquette: guests are reminded of the fundamentals of good riding etiquette. Sadly this does not always seem to be taught in riding schools anymore, nor insisted upon by every outfitter. The basics of etiquette presented to guests include:

• Waiting until everyone is mounted and ready before moving off. This includes moving off from gates, when the guide may need to remount after operating the gate;

• Allowing the guide to go first;

• Obtaining the assent of others in the group before increasing the pace;

• Warning other riders before passing them;

• Staying on the path and particularly not riding in hay meadows or crops;

• Never using a stick or other commands to speed up another rider’s horse;

• If a horses stops to stale, everyone in the group waits;

• When watering horses, everyone remains until the last horse has finished drinking; and

• Being ready to help another rider should he or she need help.

The Riding Holiday Centre Handbook - a preview

My new co-authored book The Riding Holiday Centre Handbook has now reached the printing of a final proof copy for one last check. It's been a long road to reach this penultimate step, beginning with a mass of writing during the Summer of 2008 after I closed my former riding holiday business. Here's a preview of the cover.

The book itself has come out at 365 pages and covers each aspect of that complex venture, a riding holiday business. I have written around two thirds of the book, and the remainder was contributed by Wendy Hofstee, founder and managing director of Unicorn Trails.

After the final read through has been completed, the book will be available print-on-demand at a sale price of around £15 Sterling / $25US. I'll publish details of how to buy a copy.

It's peculiar, perhaps, to be publishing a book that I needed fifteen years ago when setting up a riding holiday business. However at least I can pass on a wealth of knowledge to anyone else brave enough to attempt what I tried and - whilst I remained physically sound - made something of a success of.

Rope coiling

Here is a sequence of photos showing how I coil a lead rope to carry it clipped to a saddle - as promised to Laura at Equestrian Ink. This type of coiled rope won't come undone unless botched very badly. It's also quick and easy to undo.

First start by turning over a short length of rope near to the hook. The length of overlap depends upon the overall length and thickness of the rope, and is best determined by a bit of trial and error.

Then coil the tail of the rope around the loop, tightly enough that it won't slip loose, starting by the hook.

Here is the rope completely coiled with just a short tail left over showing that the loop is the right length.

Now pass the tail through the small loop remaining at the end, and pull tight. If necessary pull the coils together down towards the tail.

Now it's ready to go. (Not necessarily with those particular horses which are not mine.) I used ropes coiled like that guiding groups along something like fifteen thousand trail miles without one coming loose. My staff and I coiled all those ropes. We were very good at it after all those years and miles!

Forgotten things

Lytha is almost right: in yesterday's post I forgot to mention my phone. There was a signal in parts of the high mountains though rarely in the valleys.

I'm not so sure about a pencil and paper to record a last message like some Carpathian Captain Scott. Somehow I imagine that my end would have been sudden: too quick to scribble a farewell.

When I began plying the trade of guide there was no phone signal anywhere. That used to worry me. For days one travelled quite unable to summon help in case of need. A five-day trail ride vanished into dark territory. Fortunately nothing too serious went wrong.

What else did I forget to mention. Well, latterly a pocket digital camera. Then there was my lunch, plus some extra food: chocolate usually. Sometimes I carried a map, but only to show guests where they were.

My coat was strapped across the pommel of my saddle, and a hoof pick hung on a saddle D-ring.

I picked up some strange objects over the years. The smelliest was a hoof from a dead horse that had been devoured by bears. It was just the hoof wall and sole, and an interesting exhibit it made too.

Looking at my gear makes me nostalgic. I loved those high wild places. It was fun showing them to visitors, and rewarding too.

I carry the essence of those trails in heart and mind. The good that I received from them is with me still.

Guide's bag

Work on the Riding Holiday Centre Handbook continues. One task was to lay out and photograph the contents of my guide's saddlebags. Here is the image that I captured.

My old equipment includes a fairly comprehensive human and equine first aid kit (not unpacked), pocket knife, Leatherman tool, hammer, shoe puller, stirrup leather, ties, warm hat and gloves, sun tan lotion, compass, whistle, vet wrap, horse bandage, high-viz bands and insulating tape. Pommel bags are shown too along with my water bottles. Nails aren't shown. (Back then my horses were shod.) We also carried spare Easyboots in various sizes in case of lost shoes.

The saddle bags were specially made to my specification using robust leather.

It says something about the Carpathian mountains where I rode that both gloves and sun tan lotion were carried alongside one-another. Summer could be baking hot and early autumn warm and sunny. But I saw ice on puddles at five thousand feet in September and woke up to snow in October. The difference between the bottom of the hill and the ridge above my home was an hour's stiff climb and two fleeces donned. Sometimes a coat too.

It was rare to have to nail a shoe back on. Usually we spotted them loose before that. Most often I had to tighten loose shoes using the hammer on the nail heads and the bottom of the show puller to round the clenches over.

I don't remember ever using the compass. I knew the mountains too well to need it.

It's quite nostalgic now to look at all this stuff collected together.

Rushing river

I've been delving deep in my archives in order to find images for a presentation. Hence I came across this four and a half year old Spring photo.

River crossings were a routine part of my trail rides. On these cart-roads plank bridges existed for pedestrians but horses went through the water. That did, as we can see, yield an opportunity to drink. It was quite common to see a cart stopped in the flow with both horses drinking.

There is a trick to river crossings, once one has found a safe place (which, in these places, is a crossing used by others). Looks at an exit point on the far bank, and not down at the water be it rushing or swirling, for where one looks is where the body wills to go.

I tended to keep my feet fairly far apart too for extra stabilty if my horse stumbled, and to steer with a well opened rein for absolute clarity.

On a well used track there tended to be safe entry and exit points. A river bed of stones made for a slow careful crossing lest a horse slip or trip. It's a bad idea to get soaked in the wilderness.

The few times where we crossed wild streams it was a safe entry and exit that I sought first. Then the flow must be fairly slow and the water not likely to be so deep that a horse would need to swim.

Quite often my dog ended up swimming though. However she liked to cool down after a good run with the horses.

One early Spring day the river was dotted by swift moving blocks of newly thawed ice. On that occasion I made a wide detour to find a bridge.

It's curious now to live in the arid chalk downland where rivers are a rarity. But those few are limpid and their languid waters are home to fine trout.

Rings and things

Over the weekend I fitted a tie ring to each side of my trailer. It had been built without any of the useful features that a thoughtful manufacturer would have included. (There again I am not surprised as the trailer originated in the Balkans.)

No, I don't use those silly loops of baler twine beloved of English riders (so that, if a horse pulls back, "he won't be trapped"). Doru is trained not to pull back, and he doesn't.

However he will chew through baler twine loops then wander off in search of food.

I like these new rings, one on each side. They make my life easier at the destination where I need to get Doru out and secure him.

A problem less easy to resolve is the fact that the trailer has a flat tarpaulin roof. Rainwater gathers up there in pools, and these pour off the edge when the trailer is moved or tipped. It gets tipped forward when being hitched. One has to remember this before standing on the drawbar in order to snap the ball-hitch locked.

I might find a way to insert some wooden slats between the welded metal frame and the tarpaulin. That need a bit of thought to get it right.

The pieces of RSJ welded to the front have, however, improved handling at speed. I've also added rings inside the front to secure a couple of water drums, getting them out of my truck and adding further weight in front of the axles.

Slowly I am getting this rather crude trailer turned into a convenient means of transport.

Next thing will be to paint the chassis and sides. The chassis was really poorly galvanised and is rusting. The timber sides look as if they need some protection too, plus all of the metal fixings are rusty like the chassis. Thank goodness for Hammerite which I can paint over all that rust after simply wire brushing off the loose material.

I think that I shall paint it silver all over.

Then we'll be able to continue exploring the long wild atmospheric tracks that criss-cross these downlands.

Danielle wants to personalise the trailer with artwork of her design depicting the handsome Doru. That will be rather fun, having a quite unique and distinctly artistic trailer.

Meanwhile I dream of these winding ways between hedges that define the landscape.

The lane pictured, Nutwood Down, is a stone's throw from the spot where one fine day a lady rode towards me, her long fair hair blowing in the breeze. The moment had a cinematic quality. I half expected her to call mounted elves from the woods, or to cast a spell upon me.

Those spells can be tricky. One descends to the lady's bower, makes merry for a day and a night, then returns home to find that seven years have passed.

On reflection, Transylvania was like that. A few mountain rides, some jolity, a bit of tribulation thrown in for good measure, and a decade passed like a few days.

So already I've been victim to a spell. Now I am wiser.....and older in proportion to the enchantment.

Implements

I'm going away for the weekend. Larynn has invited me to accompany her on a trail riding training camp. So I've taken Friday as leave from work and will set off to take Doru a hundred miles north to the venue.

I've been rooting around to find gear stashed around my office. There is quite a pile to be taken - the usual riding gear, a selection of my old guiding stuff, and camping equipment for we shall be sleeping in a field. (or I might sleep in Doru's trailer.)

The guiding gear is the most miscellaneous and diverse. Using it I can navigate, repair, heal, cook, clean and generally keep horse and rider happy and moving safely along the trail.

The Leatherman tool is one of the handiest items, and contains a plethora of implements including pliers, screwdrivers, saws, blades and (most essential) a bottle opener. Along with a selection of strips and pieces of leather, needles, thread, baler twine, etc, this provides the means to repair tack along the way.

Here's my old handmade Transylvanian woodsman's knife. It may be rough, the steel isn't stainless, but it's a handy tool. This blade has cut kindling, prepared food, and been useful in the workshop too. Metal and wood bear marks left by its rustic maker, and this human touch I love.

I'll be back in three days ready to tell of fresh new adventures - meanwhile do all have a good weekend.

These old bags...

I bought these wallets in 1994. They conform to the UK mounted police pattern, and were made for me by the saddler who supplied the police.

They have been across Transylvania and Moldavia on a two-month trek. They have been all around southern England. Then they travelled along all the trails that I ran through the Carpathian mountains. Still they are in good shape, serviceable, useful.

On local rides I use them to carry water, an apple or two for me, a few carrots for Doru, my camera. The straps can be used to attach a raincoat, or to hold a fleece shed as the day warms up.

They are a little battered. The fronts are scratched where a Transylvanian employee dragged my gear across a concrete tack room floor. (Goodness knows why - he was a decent fellow and ordinarily reliable.) But I have kept them well oiled, and the leather is supple and waterproof.

I love the way that well-made leather tack will go on for decades if properly cared for.

A few years ago I looked into whether more wallets were available, only to hear that the police no longer bought them. New they are now too expensive for the police, who try to keep ageing tack in service in an era of limited budget. (These wallets were expensive back in 1994.) Well, with a little care, they will last for a lifetime.

These wallets are like an hierloom, stretching through the whole length of my riding career. They are as good now as when I bought them, and I strap them to my saddle with confidence.

Backs and blankets

Much of my effort lately has been concentrated on care of a human back - mine. But, in the days when I ran a riding holiday centre, considerable care was devoted to many equine backs too.

I was reminded of this today when, after riding on perhaps the first warm day of the year, I returned with a sweaty Doru. (He is moulting profusely, but still has much winter coat to shed.)

At the end of a day riding, we washed each horse's back with water to remove sweat.

We checked each blanket carefully for thorns and other irritants before tacking up a horse.

We used woolen army blankets folded multiply (usually in half then into three to make six thicknesses) since these were easy to wash, dried quickly, and could be re-folded in numerous different ways so that each horse had clean fabric against his back daily.

As that great authority on equine management - the Cavalry Manual of Horsemanship - comments, scrupulous cleanliness of the horse and the tack that fits on him are essential.

Similar comments apply to girths - the area where the girth fits needs to be washed after work and kept clean, and the girth itself needs to be kept free from mud, thorns, sand, etc that may be kicked up.

Obviously we were operating hard working trail horses. But the same principles apply to regular riding horses, adapted in proportion to the work.

I didn't ever have to do this, but I suppose that a blanket like that could also be used to keep a casualty warm.

Cats are not essential equipment, however that black and white fellow did like to jump up onto saddles and survey the world from an elevated vantage point.